Fly Away Home
by spanglemaker9
Summary: AU- Regina stops Pan's curse, but Emma is not exempt. Everything she's known is gone and she must decide what a life in The Enchanted Forest will mean. And who will stand at her side for it.
1. Chapter 1

**In this AU, Regina's spell to counteract Pan's curse works a little differently, and Emma is not exempt. Also, there's no Zelena. And I play fast and loose with canon, obviously.**

* * *

><p>Regina was dry- eyed as she explained it, but Emma could hear the tremor in her voice. Yes, she could stop Pan's curse...in a way. But it was all tied up with <em>her<em> curse and hers had created Storybrooke. She could save them from becoming trapped like rats under glass, but everything the curse had done in its long, twisted history— everything— would be undone.

"Regina," Mary Margaret said, "are you saying..."

"Storybrooke will cease to exist."

"What happens to us?" David asked.

"We go back where we came from. All of us."

That pronouncement hung in the air for a moment as the assembled glanced at each other, making note of who'd come from where.

Emma spoke first, when the realization hit her like a wall. "That means..."

"Welcome home, Princess," Regina said, but without malice. She wasn't enjoying this resolution of her own twisted magic any more than the rest of them. She sounded tired. A little sad.

"What about Henry?"

"He was born here," Regina said softly, her voice almost breaking.

"But I don't want to stay here alone!" Henry cried. "If you're all going back, then I'm going, too."

Emma looked at Regina and understanding passed between them. Together they'd figure out how to bring their son with them.

"Can you do it?" Emma murmured.

"Possibly. You and his father both came from that realm. It's in his blood."

A few feet away, Neal huffed and ran his hands through his hair. "Are you serious with this, Regina? I haven't lived in that realm since I was thirteen and now I have to go back?"

"How do you think I feel?" Emma snapped.

"It's not so bad there," Mary Margaret interjected.

"But what about Henry?" Emma said, turning back to Regina. "How do we do this?"

"I'll enchant him. And you'll bind him to you with your light magic. He'll stand between you and Neal and you'll both hang onto him. It's like blood magic, but stronger. It will be as if he's part of you."

"He _is_ part of me."

Regina ignored her. "And he's crossed realms before so the magic is already harboring in him. It should work."

"How long do we have?" David asked.

Just then, acid green smoke began roiling over the tree tops at the edge of town.

"No time," Regina said. "I have to do it now. We can't let that curse catch us."

Emma didn't have to ask Neal, he just appeared at her side, his hand resting on Henry's shoulder.

"Let's do it, Regina."

Regina stepped forward and said a few words over Henry.

"Emma, use your magic," Regina commanded. "Reach out for him and wrap him in it."

Emma had always had trouble performing magic on command, but this time it was easy. The stakes couldn't be higher. She focused on Henry, imagining him bound to her side as he always should have been. White light poured from her palms, wrapping around them both. Emma could feel the magic tugging inside her, as if she'd already been tethered to Henry and Neal loosely and someone reached in and tightened the cords. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, crossing over Neal's arm, and gripped his jacket in front.

"It'll be fine, kid," she told him.

"We've got you, Henry," Neal said.

Emma glanced up at him and Neal met her eyes over Henry's head. For the first time in over a dozen years, she felt tied to Neal, united in a common goal. But unlike Tallahassee, this one was real. This one was Henry.

The wall of bubbling green smoke advanced on them, now appearing at the foot of Main Street. Regina raised her hands and her palms began to glow purple.

"Hang on, everyone," she muttered.

Emma's eyes flitted over downtown Storybrooke. Such a funny little place, but the only real home she'd ever known. She'd barely had time to settle into it, to enjoy it, and it was about to be wiped off the map. It was the people who mattered, though, she reminded herself. The people made it home, not the place. They'd still be together, and that would have to be enough.

Just before Regina's magic met the curse, arcing in the air over their heads, Emma glanced across the crowd of apprehensive faces. Everyone was watching the curse descend on them. Everyone but Hook. He was watching _her_. When their eyes met, he smiled, lopsided and far too flippant for the situation.

"See you on the other side, Your Highness," he drawled.

Then the air around them sparked with transforming magic. The ground, the very fabric of existence, seemed to fall out from underneath her feet. She concentrated solely on hanging onto Henry. There was a brief sensation of falling through space and time. Then, just when panic was about to take over, she felt the ground slam up under her feet.

The asphalt of Main Street was gone. She stood in a field, half-shrouded in mist. _They_ stood in a field. Because Henry still stood between her and Neal.

"Henry! It worked!"

Neal smiled and ruffled Henry's hair. "You made it, kid."

"What are you wearing, Dad?"

Neal looked down at himself. "Oh, right... This was what I was wearing the last time I was here. When I was..."

"Baelfire," Emma finished for him.

Pain flickered across his face for a second and just as quickly disappeared. Because he was Neal and dwelling on something unpleasant just wasn't in his nature. They never might have talked specifically about The Enchanted Forest, but they'd talked in general terms about his childhood and she knew he was miserable being back here. He'd never show it, though. Because that was Neal, making the best of what he'd been dealt, always. She only hoped she could handle her own situation with half as much grace, because her reality had just been flipped on its head.

"Snow? Emma?"

Emma spun around at the familiar voice.

"Aurora!" Snow cried, and ran forward to embrace her.

"What are you doing here?" Aurora asked, pulling back and examining the small crowd gathered around Snow. "What are all of you doing here?"

Snow sighed, a sound of sadness and nostalgia combined. "It's a long story. We're back. For good."

"Oh..." Aurora glanced at Regina.

Snow hurried to reassure her. "She's not... It's not like that. Regina saved us all. But it required coming back here."

Philip stepped forward. "Our kingdom extends its hospitality to your party, for as long as you need it."

Something flickered across Snow's face. "That won't be necessary. We have our own kingdom and we need to get back there and rule it." Then she glanced at Regina. "I do still have a castle, don't I?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "I didn't destroy it, if that's what you're asking. It's been redecorated, but it's been preserved."

"Then that's where we're going. Supplies for the journey would be appreciated, though."

"Whatever we have is at your command," Philip said with a small bow.  
>Snow looked around at her family. It was the happiest Emma had seen her in ages.<p>

"Then we're going home. All of us."

Regina shifted uneasily. "I'm not sure if—"

"You too," Snow said in a tone that brooked no disagreement. "Everyone from our kingdom has just been thrown back to The Enchanted Forest after twenty-eight years. They're going to be confused and scared. What they need is reassurance. The way we give them that is by showing we're united. No revenge plots or personal vendettas. We're a family. It's time to act like one."

Regina still didn't look convinced. Then Henry turned to her and took her hand.

"Come on, Mom. Come home with us."

She gave one last irritated eye-roll, mostly for show, before she gave in.

* * *

><p>They stayed in Philip and Aurora's kingdom for another day while horses and provisions were procured. Emma tried to stay busy, to avoid thinking about what had just happened. She was back in The Enchanted Forest. To stay. The lunacy of it was apparent the next morning as they mustered in the field to begin the journey to Snow's castle.<p>

There they were, the citizens of Storybrooke, transformed back to who'd they'd been here. Snow's hair was long. Charming was wearing a fur-lined cape with a broadsword strapped to his side. Regina... God only knew where she came up with those outfits, but this one was a keeper. Even Neal looked like he belonged here, even though she knew he didn't feel that way. And then there was Emma, in jeans and a leather jacket, looking as out of place as she felt. And everyone kept calling her "Princess", even people who'd known her as he sheriff back in Storybrooke. It was like this place made them crazy.

She was watching the members of her parents' entourage fix packs to horses and sort out the order of the procession when Hook sauntered up to stand next to her.

She'd barely spoken to him since they'd gotten here, and not even much in the small window of time in Storybrooke after they'd come back from Neverland. In fact, she hadn't spent any significant time alone with him since they'd traipsed through the jungle of Neverland... since she'd kissed him, that one scorching, incendiary kiss. Since he'd declared himself to her. It felt like a thousand years ago now.

At the time, she'd had Henry to find, so she'd filed away that moment, the one that made the ground under her feet feel unsteady, and told herself she'd think about it later, after they rescued Henry and got home. She'd think about his declaration then, too, and see how she felt about it. But it had been one crisis after another and there'd still been fucking Pan to defeat, and no sooner had Gold done that than Pan's curse had descended on them and now...

Looking back on it, everything that happened in Neverland seemed like some sort of fever dream. The dark, humid forest, the Lost Boys, poisoned arrows and magic water. The thing with Hook had taken on the same fog of unreality, like she'd only dreamed about kissing him, dreamed that he wanted her. It was like having a sex dream about a co-worker, and then waking up in the morning and feeling awkward around them for no good reason. Maybe it had all evaporated into the mist when they'd sailed away from that infernal island.

"Hey," she said to him, as casually as if she'd just run into him at Granny's.

"How are you holding up, Princess?"

"Don't call me that."

His eyebrows shot up. Every twitch of Hook's eyebrows was equal to a thousand words from anyone else.

"As you wish, but you'd better get used to it, because you are, and it matters here."

"Not to me. I'm still just me."

Hook smiled at her, that soft, intimate smile that made her feel as if she'd just seen some secret part of him. Not Captain Hook, the pirate— Killian, the man. That's when she knew it hadn't been a dream. The kiss was real. Everything that came after it was real. And she still didn't know what to do with that information. More now than ever.

"Very well," he said gently. "You're still just Emma. So, Just Emma, what now?"

"I have no idea," she sighed. "I just want to make sure Henry is okay." It turned out, her goal at the moment was no different than it had been in Neverland.

Hook looked across the field at Henry. David... Charming... was showing him around the horse he'd been brought. Somehow overnight Henry had transformed. Someone had given him new clothes, a brocade doublet, a short cape, and boots. He looked like a young prince of The Enchanted Forest. His face was glowing with excitement.

"Looks like the boy will do just fine here," Hook observed. "And what about you?"

"I guess I'll find out." Emma still watched Henry, although there wasn't much to see except her son enjoying the hell out of himself. It was easier than looking at Hook. "What about you? What are you going to do now?"

Hook shrugged. "Regina said everything from this realm was returned. People and objects."

Now Emma looked at him, her eyes wide as the implications of that sunk in.

"You mean the Jolly Roger..."

"Aye, she's here...somewhere."

Emma schooled her features back into a mask of polite interest, looking back at her son, now up in the saddle as if he'd been born to it. She supposed he had been, in a way. "So you're going to go get it?"

"I'm not sure where she is at present, or in whose hands. I'm a bit at loose ends at the moment. The king has invited me to the castle, so I'll set up camp there until I sort out what's next."

She should not have felt nearly faint with relief at his words. Hook was a pirate. He'd spent all his life on that boat. No doubt as soon as he found it again, he'd be gone, back to marauding on the high seas, just like before. _But not yet._ He wasn't leaving yet. She was almost light-headed at the revelation. She'd have to examine that later, too, when she got around to figuring out that kiss.

"Fall in, people! We're heading out to the castle!" Leroy shouted across the clearing.

There was a general hubbub as everyone moved to find their place in the procession.

Hook took a step back and, with a small bow and a flourish of his hand, indicated that she should go first. "The royal family leads," he said quietly.

"Where will you be?"

He gave her a self-deprecating smile. "Bringing up the rear with the rest of the rabble."

"Hook…"

"Emma?" Neal called out. "Snow wants you to ride next to her."

"You'd better go," Hook said. "Your family is waiting."

* * *

><p>Hook watched Emma walk away to join her parents at the front of the procession. It seemed all he did these days was watch this woman walk away from him. And he was powerless to do anything but follow her.<p>

Neal met her half way across the field, turning to walk the rest of the way with her. Killian watched him duck his head to whisper something to her. Jealousy, a foul, unfamiliar emotion, twisted through his gut. Still, he'd told Neal back in Storybrooke that he was backing off and letting Henry's father have a shot at reuniting his family. He supposed that promise still held. Of all the people thrown back into The Enchanted Forest, Baelfire, Emma and Henry had the most in common, the least to do with this world. They'd need each other in the coming days.

He'd also told Baelfire that he was all right with backing off because he was in it for the long haul. He supposed that was still true as well. At present, he had two women he could pursue—The Jolly Roger or Emma. He didn't even hesitate before following Emma.


	2. Chapter 2

The first weeks back in The Enchanted Forest passed in a whirlwind. Emma never would have guessed that a royal family could stay so busy. It seemed like the buck stopped with Charming and Snow for every issue, big and small. Regina was around, but she seemed to be taking a perverse kind of joy in absolving herself of any and all official duties, swanning around the castle in a staggering array of outfits that would make drag queens weep with envy.

Snow and Charming threw themselves back into their official duties with gusto. Watching them, Emma was struck with the idea that their quiet life in Storybrooke might have failed to satisfy their mutual need to fix things, although neither of them would ever admit it.

Henry took to life in The Enchanted Forest like an old pro. He learned to ride in a week. Snow started teaching him archery, Charming started teaching him fencing. Regina started teaching him to dance, all the peculiar formal court dances from that world. He was on his way to becoming a proper young courtier.

The residents of Storybrooke gradually shifted back into place in The Enchanted Forest. Some people, like Granny, Ruby and the dwarves, stayed on at the castle, adopting various official duties. Others, like Princess Abigail and Frederick, found their way back to where they'd lived pre-Storybrooke.

Neal visited his father's old castle one afternoon and wound up staying there. Cleaning up the wreck it had become gave him something real to focus on. Belle eventually washed up there, too. She was lost without Rumple, and still deep in mourning. She wanted to be in the one place where she'd been with him in this world, so she went back to his castle. It was a big place, so Neal let her stay. She wandered the halls like a ghost. Like a dusting ghost, since she insisted on cleaning, no matter how many times Neal told her to stop.

Robin and his Merry Men had their camp in the woods not far from Rumple's castle. In short order, Robin and Mulan came to visit Neal, and soon the cavernous halls were filled, more often than not, with Robin and his men, plus Mulan.

Henry split his time between the two castles. Snow and Charming's, and when that got too dull or when all the adults were busy with tedious kingdom-running duties, he took off for his father's, which became something of a home for wayward fairy tale characters.

Full of misfits and outlaws, it might have been the perfect place for Hook, had he deigned to visit, but he wouldn't. Instead, he loitered at Snow and Charming's castle, as close as he could get to Emma while only rarely getting to speak to her. The kingdom, at least at first, seemed to have swallowed her whole.

As soon as things started settling down into something like a routine, Emma noticed that Snow and Charming had taken to pulling her into any meeting they could manage. It might be about big things, like a briefing from the Blue Fairy, or something she was amazed even came to the attention of the King and Queen, like a minor property dispute between farmers.

It was the same today. Emma had been reading (The Enchanted Forest had a wide-ranging yet bizarre choice of reading material) when Snow popped her head into her room and asked her to sit in on a meeting with them. She didn't bother to argue. She'd tried that for the first two weeks and it didn't work. Sighing, she set down her book, The History of the Ogre Wars, vol. 3, and joined her parents in their receiving room.

She took her seat in her designated chair at her father's side, and settled in to be bored to tears for the duration. Today the dwarves were discussing some sort of security issue, some re-training of the palace guards or something. Seemed that under Regina's reign, they'd become a bit heavy-handed with their tactics and Snow didn't approve.

"While we're addressing security," Snow added at the end of her impassioned speech about prisoners' rights. "Something's got to be done about the dungeons."

"What do you mean, Your Majesty?" Leroy asked her.

"Well, it's dreadful down there. Trust me, I've been imprisoned there."

"Your Majesty," Leroy said hesitantly. "Aren't dungeons _supposed_ to be sort of… dreadful? I mean, they're _dungeons_."

"But people have a right to a basic level of care regardless. Don't you agree, Emma? You worked in law enforcement. And you've been down in those dungeons, too. They'd never pass muster in your world."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they're in violation of the Geneva Convention down there. But aren't the rules different here?"

Snow smiled patiently. "We're the royal family. The rules are whatever we make them. That's why we're here."

In a flash, Emma understood why Snow kept dragging her into these meetings. She wasn't there to keep her parents company. She was being _trained_. Because one day _she'd_ be the fucking Queen of The Enchanted Forest. She'd be expected to hold court and sit in on briefings and settle disputes and rule fairly.

Her heartbeat took off at a rapid patter and her breathing got shallow. Snow and David were listening to Leroy explain something to them, leaning into each other, already conferring before they'd said a word out loud. They looked like a King and Queen. Not like her. She was a bounty hunter. A hired gun. An orphan. What did she know about ruling anyone? She was the one who'd been alone her whole life.

"Excuse me for a second," she muttered, shoving back from the table and walking from the room as quickly as she could. By the time she hit the hallway, she was running. She found a staircase and kept running, all the way up. And then up another, smaller staircase, and still another until she was sprinting up a tiny stone spiral staircase at the top of the castle.

Emma burst through a door and out onto the battlements, breathing hard. She flattened her palm against her chest and just focused on getting air into her lungs.

"Swan?" Killian was standing at the crenelated wall, and he turned as she stumbled out onto the roof. "What's wrong?"

She waved her hands in front of her, because she couldn't speak yet.

Killian crossed quickly to her, the skirt of his leather frock coat billowing out behind him. He grasped her arm and crouched to peer into her face.

"You look as if you're being chased by ogres."

She shook her head forcefully. "I just needed a little fresh air."

"Fresh air," he said skeptically. "Up on the roof, at breakneck pace."

"I just needed to get out of there for a minute."

"What happened?"

"Do you realize that I'm supposed to be the fucking Queen one day?"

Killian smirked. "Yes, very often Princesses become Queens. I believe that's how the business is set up."

"I can't be a queen."

"Well, you will be. It's not like deciding whether or not to put your name on the list. Here, you're just _on_ the list. You were born on the list."

"That's crazy. I'm American. We _vote_ for our leaders. And nobody would ever vote for me."

"You might be surprised."

"Oh, I'm sure. I've been in prison."

"You were framed. By the son of The Dark One. That makes you a folk hero in their eyes."

"I didn't go to college."

"College doesn't exist here."

"I'm a single mother."

"To a prince of the realm. Exceptions are made."

"I can't dance."

Killian was silent for a moment and then he burst into laughter. "Dancing? What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?"

Emma huffed and threw her hands in the air, striding away to stare over the battlement walls. "They have balls and shit here. I've seen Regina teaching Henry. All these complicated ceremonial steps he's supposed to know so he can properly dance with the Princess of Lower Windbag or whatever. Because that's the point of being a Princess. So you can dance with the Princes and forge royal alliances and manage realms. I can't do that stuff. Any of it."

Killian crossed to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Swan, look at me."

She threw a sullen, frustrated glance over her shoulder.

"I mean it. Turn around and look at me properly."

Emma sighed and turned to face him. He took her right hand and raised it to his shoulder, then took her left hand in his. His left arm settled around her waist. She could feel the gentle pressure of the metal hook against the small of her back.

"Now eyes on mine."

She met his eyes and her stomach bottomed out to her feet. She hadn't been this close to him, face-to-face and alone, since Neverland. Any doubts about the reality of what had happened between them there vanished as her whole body surged awake. Good God, he was beautiful. The blue of his eyes was unreal.

"Now," he continued, a sinful smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Don't look away. Trust me."

She wanted to laugh at that, Captain Hook asking her trust him. But she found she couldn't make a sound because her mouth had gone dry. And besides, she _did_ trust him. She'd never considered that before but now that she had, she knew without a doubt that it was true. Somewhere in all the helping and life-saving and feats of daring, she'd come to trust him implicitly. With her life, if it came to that. More importantly, she'd trusted him with Henry's life.

"What are we doing?" She finally managed to squeak out.

Killian smiled again. "We're dancing, of course. Look down, Swan."

She did. Somehow while she was getting caught up in his eyes and his scruff and his hand holding hers and his hook pressing into her back, they'd started moving. She hadn't thought, she'd only looked into his eyes and followed where he led. And he led her into a dance.

"I'll be damned."

"You're a natural, Emma."

Of course, now that she was aware of it, she promptly screwed it up, missing a step and stomping on his foot instead.

"Ow."

"Sorry, sorry..."

"No harm done, Swan. I've taken worse beatings for you. I'm surprisingly hard to exterminate."

She laughed. God, it felt like the first time she'd laughed since she'd landed in this realm. That couldn't be true, could it? It felt true. It was certainly the first time she felt this loose and buoyant. Right now, up on the battlements, the sun setting on the distant bay, with Killian's arm around her, she felt a sort of boneless, easy joy that she hadn't felt in longer than she could remember.

They'd stopped dancing. They'd stopped moving at all. Killian had backed her into the battlement, and now she leaned into the sun-warmed stones, staring up into his gorgeous face, drunk on a handsome man and dancing that felt like breathing.

Killian let go of her hand. His fingers danced along her jaw, a whisper of a touch, testing how receptive she was. Very receptive, it turned out. Her hand, now free, found his shoulder, her arms linking loosely around his neck. His palm slid back into her hair, this time with a purpose. His head dipped as he leaned in, but he didn't kiss her. She was ready for it. She was all but standing on tip-toe, waiting for his lips to find hers. Instead, he kissed her cheek, then pressed his cheek to hers. It felt far more intimate, in a way. She could feel the bristle of his beard, the warmth of his breath on her neck.

"Emma," he whispered on an exhale.

Then she felt his lips, but on her neck. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the rough stone wall. Gentle kisses trailed down her neck and then back up, heading for her mouth. She threaded her fingers through his hair and made a fist, urging his head back up.

His hand traced over her shoulder to the edge of her fussy blue silk dress. _It takes forever to get out of these clothes_. That was the only thing she was thinking as his fingertips traced her neckline. Killian and his nimble fingers seemed up for the challenge, though. She'd just felt the first hook give when a rough voice called out.

"Halt! Unhand the Princess, you villainous swine."

Killian's head dropped back and he groaned. Emma opened her eyes just in time to see a phalanx of palace guards surround them, swords drawn.

"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered.

"Seize him!" one of the guards shouted.

Then the guards were on Killian. Two grabbed his arms, another put a chokehold on him, and he was being hauled backwards away from her .

"No guys, you don't understand..."

Her words were swallowed up in their shouts and scuffling. Killian was starting to fight back. There was no way this would end well.

"I said unhand him!" She shouted as loudly as she could. That seemed to do the trick. All the guards froze. The three restraining Killian released him. Killian shook them off his arms and shrugged his shoulders to straighten his coat.

"Are you sure you're all right, Your Highness?"

"I'm fine. You can go."

"It's just that we saw the pirate accosting you, and we-"

"That's enough! Snow's on to something. You guys need some sensitivity training. Maybe an Internal Affairs division." She looked the head guard up and down. "And definitely some new uniforms."

"Your Highness?"

Emma waved her hands at them. "At ease. Dismissed. Whatever. Just go."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The guards retreated around the corner of the battlements. Emma turned to Killian.

"I'm really sorry about that. They don't..."

Killian held a hand up to stop her. "They saw a pirate attacking their Princess and they did their job."

"Killian," she sighed. "You're not..."

"No," He stopped her again and then turned to go. "I know exactly what I am."

Emma watched him disappear down the staircase and slumped against the battlements. Then she groaned and turned to face the wall, leaning on her elbows. What the hell had just happened here? Well, she _knew_ what happened. She'd gotten tangled with Killian and started making out. The man addled her hormones and her brain.

She remembered his face when that guard accused him of accosting her and she winced. He put on a brave face and acted like he relished in his bad reputation, but she hadn't missed that flare of pain at the accusation. And she definitely hadn't missed the way he'd stormed off the battlements once he was free. He'd been hurt and insulted, and she was afraid she hadn't done enough to make it right.

Sighing, she looked across the stunning view visible from the roof. It really was beautiful here. Like a picture in a storybook. Looking around, she wondered what Killian had been doing up here in the first place. She was so panicked when she stumbled out here, it hadn't occurred to her to ask. Then she looked out over the treetops. You could see the harbor from here, filled with merchant ships coming in to dock. And past the mouth of the harbor, you could see the open ocean, nothing but a flat blue expanse all the way to the horizon.

Killian had been up here keeping vigil for his ship. It was easy to forget when he spent so much time lurking around the hallways of the castle, but he was a pirate at heart. And part of him desperately wanted to get back out on that ocean.

Emma couldn't help but wonder how long she had until he left. All the charm wore off The Enchanted Forest when she imagined being here without him.


	3. Chapter 3

A few days later, when Henry announced at breakfast that he was going to his dad's for the day, Emma decided to join him. Henry had been coming home for weeks now full of stories about Robin and various Merry Men and the shenanigans they got up to at Neal's place. She figured she should do the responsible mom thing and check it out for herself.

"You're going to Neal's?" Snow asked with a little too much interest.

"Yeah, I thought I'd go meet all these guys Henry's been hanging around with."

"But Neal is there, too?"

Emma smirked. "It's his house, so yes, Neal will be there."

"Maybe…"

"What?"

Snow fidgeted with the gold filigree clasps on her morning gown. "Maybe he'd like to come back here for dinner."

Emma chuckled. "Are you asking me to bring him home with me?"

Snow waved her hands. "He's all alone there and—"

"He's got a dozen Merry Men and Belle. He's pretty much never alone."

"I just thought he'd appreciate a nice family dinner."

Emma looked from Snow to Charming, who just shrugged as if he had no idea what his wife was up to. But Emma knew. "Family dinner", her ass. They were hoping she'd get back together with Neal. It would warm the cockles of their little fairy tale hearts. The most perfect storybook ending to ever exist, with every pesky loose end neatly tied up.

"Family dinner," she said flatly.

"If he's free," Snow shrugged nonchalantly.

"Okay, yeah, I'll see," Emma said, pushing Henry in front of her out of the room.

They rode to Neal's, Emma on the slowest, most docile mare in the royal stables and Henry on his new horse, Stormcloud, who he adored. They were accompanied by a contingent of palace guards. Because they were now people who traveled with armed guards.

Neal's palace—Rumple's palace—was transformed. Most of the furniture and goods had been looted over time and what was left was in bad shape. Neal had chucked out most of it. Emma never saw Rumple's palace, so all she knew of it is what Neal told her as he took her on a tour of the place. The purge had left many rooms nearly bare. All the better to house the Merry Men's combat practices. The house was full of shouts and laughter and the clang of weapons crashing together. She could see why Henry liked it here. After a quick hello for his father, he'd disappeared to watch sparring practice.

They ran into Belle in the library. Emma spent a few minutes catching up with her but Belle seemed distracted, surrounded by piles of open books.

"She's still not herself," Emma whispered to Neal on the way out.

"Yeah, well at least she stopped with the damned dusting. She spends all her time in the library now."

"I guess that's an improvement. Belle always loved reading."

"I don't know. She's a little too driven about it. I think she's up to something."

"Like what?"

"I have no idea. Guess I'll find out eventually, huh?"

"And how are you doing?" Emma asked, nudging Neal's arm.

He gave a soft huff of laughter and ran a hand over the back of his hair.

"You mean since I got yanked away from everything I knew and tossed into some fairy tale to live out the rest of my life? Okay, I guess."

Emma laughed. "Yeah, I get it."

Neal's expression turned serious. "What about you? I mean, I haven't been here since I was a kid, but I do remember it. This is all new for you."

"I was here once."

"Your little side trip with Snow is different than a permanent move. How you holding up?"

Emma shrugged and ran her hands through her hair. "Okay? I don't know. It's fine. Different but fine. I don't think it's sunk in all the way yet."

"How's life in the royal family?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed. They were in the dining room, but the massive carved wood table had been pushed up against one wall and all the chairs were gone. So Emma levered herself up on the edge of the table where Neal joined her. They sat side-by-side swinging their feet.

"It's weird. Everybody calls me Your Highness."

Neal chuckled. "Emma Swan, royal princess."

She elbowed him hard but she was laughing too. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying, it's a long way from pouring coffee at the Route Six Diner," he said, referring to the waitressing job she'd been working when they met. That felt like another lifetime. She supposed it was another life now, the one that happened back there.

"Do you miss it?" She asked Neal after a minute.

"Home? New York?"

She nodded.

He scoffed. "Parts of it, no. I mean, this place..." He waved a hand to indicate the palace. "Do you have any idea what I was paying for that dump on Wooster Street? And the subway and the rats... Nah, I certainly don't miss that part."

"Yeah, I don't miss having to chat up creepy pervs just so I could collar them for jumping bail. Dealing with all those low lifes on a regular basis."

"But some things..." Neal said, trailing off wistfully.

"Movies. TV. The internet," Emma said.

"Jesus, I go to bed as soon as it gets dark here just because I'm so fucking bored."

"Going out to eat."

"Take out," Neal moaned. "I'm never going to have Kung Pao Chicken from Happy Dragon Kitchen again. Sometimes that makes me want to cry."

"Jeans," Emma sighed. "Do you have any idea how long it takes me to get dressed in the mornings? And two people have to help me. It's ridiculous." A flash of an image popped into her head, from that afternoon nearly a week before, of Killian's fingers tracing the neckline of her dress and deftly releasing the first hook. She cleared her throat and looked at her feet. When she looked up again, Neal was watching her, smiling softly. "You look really pretty, though."

Emma felt herself flush. Neal wasn't nearly as florid and suave as Killian with his words, but somehow that made his simple compliment all the sweeter. Then she felt guilty for comparing them. This wasn't a competition. This was... she didn't know what this was, and sitting here reminiscing with Neal wasn't making it any clearer. She'd just resolved to get up and go find Henry when laughter and voices sounded out in the hall.

Moments later, the door to the dining room burst open and Roland, Robin's little boy, flew through it, brandishing a small wooden sword over his head. "You'll never catch me, ya scurvy cutthroat!" He shouted over his shoulder.

"Throw down your weapons and surrender! You can't escape me," came a voice from behind him, just before Mulan raced into the room, hot on Roland's heels. She was laughing as she reached out and caught him around the waist. Roland shrieked and dissolved into hysterical giggles. Mulan had shed her armor and was dressed in breeches and a loose white shirt, but that wasn't why it took Emma a second to recognize her. Then she realized that she'd never seen Mulan laugh, or even smile much.

Mulan glanced up at Neal and there was flash of a gentle, unguarded expression there before she straightened up and her inscrutable mask dropped down again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We didn't realize you were in here. Hello, Emma, it's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too. You look like you're doing well." She meant that. The Mulan standing before her, smiling and laughing, clutching a squirming Roland, was another person entirely from the fierce, guarded warrior she'd first met.

"Neal's been very generous to all of us," Mulan said, glancing at him again.

"I suspect he's happy to have the company," Emma said.

"I am. Can you imagine me rattling around this house by myself? I'd go insane."

"Too many years living in a crowded city, I guess."

Neal sighed and nodded. "Yep, you're right. But no worries. I've got a full house to make me feel at home."

"Did Henry come with you?" Mulan asked.

"Yeah, he went off to watch guys hit each other with heavy things."

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Then maybe Roland and I will go find him and say hello. I'll see you later."

Mulan left, leading a chattering Roland by the hand.

"She looks really happy."

Neal rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. "I think she is. She's pretty hard to read, but when she opens up, she's great."

Emma wondered if Neal was even aware of the way Mulan looked at him, or that she only seemed to open up to him. She suspected he didn't, because men could be really stupid about stuff like that. She hoped Mulan wasn't in too deep. She'd already had her heart broken. Twice. She didn't need Neal to break it, too.

"Hey, I'm gonna go find Henry."

Neal reached out and snagged her hand as she hopped off the table. "Come around more often, okay? It's good to talk to somebody I knew from then. I don't want to forget, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Neal's thumb rubbed across her knuckles. He hadn't touched her like that since Phoenix, when she was that other girl, living that other life. It felt nice. Familiar, even though it had been forever. This would be easy, her and Neal, so easy. With the way everything had changed, it was practically foretold. She could even stand outside herself and see it the way everyone else would. Snow and Charming's daughter with the son of The Dark One. No better way to send a message that the old days were gone and there was one united leadership.

Killian, on the other hand… he didn't seem to fit in her new life at all. If possible, he was even more a stranger to her existence now than he was back in Storybrooke. But when he touched her… It wasn't a warm kind of comfort like Neal's touch. It burned her. It made her lose her mind. She didn't just stop caring about the right thing to do, she forgot right and wrong even existed.

That was scary, too. She'd spent a really long time protecting herself, being cautious, thinking things through. There was no way to think through Killian.

Emma gently pulled her hand free from Neal's.

"I'd better go."

"Sure. See you soon?"

She smiled. "Yeah, see you soon."

She didn't invite him home to dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

**This isn't super long, just 7 chapters. And it's already written. :)**

* * *

><p>Snow was determined to mend every fence that had been damaged in the long years that led them to this moment. To that end, she invited King George for a state dinner.<p>

Snow and Charming invited every significant member of their kingdom, including many old friends from Storybrooke. Emma sat at her mother's side, of course, right in the middle of a thirty foot long table set up on a dais at the front of the great hall in the palace. King George sat across from them, next to Regina. Other noteworthy individuals from both kingdoms were arrayed up and down the table. Neal was one person down and across from Emma. She was fairly certain that was on purpose.

Killian was there, too, but not at the long main table. He was across the room, seated with Granny and Red. He didn't seem unhappy about that. Every time she looked over at him, he was telling Granny and Red some story or another. Apparently he was quite entertaining because the two women had been laughing non-stop. Emma found herself watching him more than she probably should.

"Emma, what do you think?"

"Huh?" She tore her gaze away from Killian's table and turned back to her mother. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was just saying that both our kingdoms would benefit from establishing favored trade routes."

"Sounds good," she said helplessly.

"You expect me to just award you with favored trade status after everything you've done?" King George snapped, eyeing both Charmin g and Snow.

"What _we've_ done?" Snow bristled. "Because if we're keeping score…"

"This pretender—" George wagged a finger at Charming.

"Hey," Emma heard herself interjecting, even though she hadn't planned to say anything. "I think it's pretty big of Snow to be willing to let go of all that stuff you did to her and Charming. How about you do the same?"

George swiveled his attention to her. "Just because some think you the savior, young lady, don't think that gives you the right to lecture me on running a kingdom."

"You wouldn't even _be_ here if I didn't—"

"I think what Emma is saying," Neal interrupted calmly, looking between Emma, George, Snow and Charming. "Is that we're all in the same boat here. Every person at this table, in this room, has lost something. Someone. You lost your son and Midas' gold? I lost my father. Regina lost the man she loved. Snow and Charming lost their little girl and Emma lost her childhood. But we're willing to put it behind us. Dwelling in the past is a freaking dead end, man."

Emma was aware of every head at the table turning to face Neal. People down on the floor were looking, too. Killian had left off entertaining Granny and Red to watch.

"The past is gone," Neal continued. "None of us can turn back time or undo it. All we have is now. Everybody here wants to do it the right way, lay down our grudges and make a positive change."

"None of us will forget," Emma chimed in, keeping her tone steady, attempting to reach out to George even though all she really wanted to do was deck the arrogant ass. "But we can choose how we remember. And we can choose what we do with our memories. You want to waste what's left of your life feeling bitter and angry, that's your choice. But I've had enough of that. We all have. So get on board or step to the side. Even Regina's with us. You're going to be a pretty lonely old man if you wall yourself up in your castle and nurse your grudges."

George's jaw worked as he ground his teeth together and studied her, deciding what to say. Snow leaned across the table and touched his arm, smiling her winning, Queen's smile, the one that made everyone adore her. "King George, we want you on our side. We want you to move forward with us, not against us. That's why I invited you here tonight."

"Change is hard," Regina said, reaching to refill George's wine glass. "Nobody knows that better than me. But if I can do it, turn my back on all that anger and hate, surely you can, too. What do you say? Shall we toast to a new beginning?"

Regina raised her glass towards George. The rest of the table followed suit and they all waited, glasses raised, to see what George would do. Then his shoulders slumped and his face sagged, as if the heat of his anger had been all that kept him moving. He wearily grasped his glass and raised it.

"All right, then. To new beginnings."

"And to King George," Snow beamed. "Our newest friend and ally."

"To King George," they echoed.

Emma took a hefty swig of her wine and set her glass down carefully. Her hand was trembling slightly. As the conversation around the table started back up, Snow leaned into her.

"Well done, Emma."

"I didn't do anything. It was Neal."

Neal smiled modestly. "It was both of us."

"You and Baelfire make quite the team," Snow said.

"We always did, didn't we, Em?"

Emma managed a pained smile at Neal before she had to look away. It was all feeling like too much. Did she just help broker a peace deal with an enemy kingdom? Did she do it with _Neal_? She couldn't look back at him. In some ways, he was just Neal, the Neal from her youth, before everything went south. When it was just the two of them together, that's all they were, and the simplicity of it, the ease, was comforting. It's like she knew the girl she was when she was with him.

But here… in this crazy new world it seemed like there were a thousand expectations pressing in on them. These were people who believed in True Love and Fate in capital letters, and they saw it every time the two of them spoke. Then he wasn't just Neal. Then he was Baelfire, son of The Dark One, and he carried a world of complications and issues on his shoulders.

It wasn't fair to him. He was who he always was, and he couldn't help what other people projected onto him. They might see him as the Dark Prince to her Light Princess, but Neal didn't. He still saw the girl who poured him free coffee in a crummy diner in Phoenix.

Her desperate, wandering eyes landed on Killian. Killian's _back_. He'd left Granny and Red's table and was winding through the crowded dining hall towards the exit. Emma knew a sudden, fluttering anxiety in her chest. The sight of him walking away from her, just as she expected he would, but also just the way she feared he would, made her throat close up in panic.

Casting a quick glance up and down the table, she noted that nearly everyone was engaged in conversation. Surely no one would notice if she slipped out for a minute? Even royalty had to pee sometimes.

"I'll be right back," she murmured. Snow waved a hand absently, but never missed a beat in her lively conversation with Regina and King George. At least the truce seemed to be sticking. If she wasn't mistaken, Regina was even mildly flirting with the old bastard, flattering his ego into submission. She had to admire her ruthlessness. Thank God they were finally on the same side.

Emma wound her way through the crowd, ignoring all the interested glances that tracked her progress. Some of these people knew her in Storybrooke when she was just Sheriff Swan, but now they'd all fallen prey to the lure of royal celebrity worship. It was ridiculous.

Killian reached one of the exits and disappeared into a dark hallway. Emma picked up her pace, running after him and not caring how it looked.

"Killian!" she called when she reached the hallway.

He stopped instantly, but didn't turn right away.

"Where are you going?"

He turned slightly at the waist, until she could see his face in profile over his shoulder. "Had all the festivities I can stomach for one evening, I'm afraid."

She advanced a few steps towards him. "You looked like you were having a good time with Granny and Red."

"Aye. We little folk were keeping ourselves entertained quite nicely."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. I had to sit with my parents."

He pivoted on his heel, fixing her with a look that made something turn over low in her stomach. The light was dim in this hall, only a couple of torches giving long dark shadows to everything. His eyes were nearly obscured in shadow. There was just a glint of the whites flashing out from the darkness. She'd never seen him look more like a murderous pirate than he did now. He looked positively dangerous.

"You're a princess," he said with exaggerated politeness. "Of course you had to sit with the royal family and all those esteemed personages. That's how these things are done. Only the right company for the kingdom's princess."

"You sound jealous, Killian."

He chuckled, a baritone vibration that held very little humor. Then he took a step towards her. "Jealous because you're taking your rightful place as a ruler?"

"No. You sound jealous of Neal. Because he was up there and you weren't."

He took another step closer. Emma shifted her weight from one foot to another but she didn't retreat. There was some kind of incendiary energy snapping between them making her head spin.

He kept advancing, one slow, silent step at a time. "Why would I be jealous of Baelfire?" He was smiling now, a wicked curl of his lips and a single hiked eyebrow. When he was an arm's length away, he did reach for her, running a fingertip over her shoulder and down her arm. It wasn't the way she expected him to touch her but her knees weakened just the same.

"No reason."

He cocked his head, examining her in the low, flickering light. "I have no right to be jealous or there's nothing to be jealous of?"

Her mouth fell open as she grasped for the right answer. "I…."

Then Killian moved. His hand clamped down on her shoulder and the curve of his hook pressed into her hip, shoving her back into the wall. He didn't stop until he was nearly pressed flush against her. Releasing her shoulder, his palm slid up to grip the back of her neck, angling her face up to his.

"You'll have to choose, Swan."

"It's not a contest," she gasped, hating how breathy and desperate she sounded. But she couldn't help it. She was practically trembling, gripping his forearms to steady herself even though there was a stone wall at her back.

"Oh, it's not?" he purred. He cocked his head again, this time to bring his face closer to hers. His breath washed over her when he chuckled. "It stops being a contest, Emma, when you make a choice and end the competition."

Like that day on the parapets, he pressed his cheek to hers, his scruff prickling deliciously across her skin. She felt him kiss her, just below her cheekbone, in front of her ear. Her breath left her on a long, wavering sigh.

"I suppose you want me to choose you." Her voice sounded remarkably steady considering she couldn't keep her eyes open or stand up on her own.

He chuckled again and the vibration across her skin had her biting back a moan. "I think you _want_ to choose me."

"I do?"

"You do," he murmured. "But you're afraid."

"What am I afraid of?"

"Only you can answer that, love. But why don't I leave you with a little something to ponder?"

Before she could reply to that, his mouth was on hers. The Killian from Neverland, attentive and tender was gone. So was the Killian from the parapets, comforting and sweet. This man was all pirate, sweeping in and claiming her. She thought she should do… _something_. Protest, maybe. Or not. But he didn't give her a moment in the relentless sensual assault to think of what she should do. So she simply slid a hand into his hair, relishing in the feel of it, silky and soft, between her fingers. Her other hand gripped at the edge of his coat, steadying herself against him. He plundered, just as pirates should, showing her no quarter as he claimed every inch of her mouth, licking, biting, savoring.

The blunt curve of his hook slid down her hip, and lower, pressing a line into her thigh. There were layers of silk skirts and cotton petticoats between them, but she could still feel the pressure of it, the intent, seeking out her body underneath her pretty green dress. He raked it slowly back up, a little to the inside, _almost_ in the right spot, making her shudder, making her bite briefly at his bottom lip. He uttered a sound between a groan and a growl.

"I won't steal you away, princess," he murmured against her lips.

"What?" Her mind was fuzzy with rampaging lust and hormones and he wasn't kissing her. It was so much easier when he just _kissed_ her. She couldn't think about anything then.

"You need to decide exactly who you'll be here and then…" Abruptly he pushed himself away from her. She staggered, reeling as they went from sixty back to zero. "You need to decide who belongs here with you."

"I don't…"

He raised his hand and pressed his finger to her lips. "It's all right, love. I'm a patient man. I can wait while you sort it out. I intend to win, but I want to do it fair and square."

Then he gave her that infuriating, irresistible smirk and he turned and left her panting against the wall in the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

"We need a ball!" Snow declared as she speared a piece of egg.

Emma and Charming glanced at each other across the breakfast table, matching looks of apprehension on their faces.

"We do?" Charming said, with a passable display of interest and husbandly enthusiasm.

"We do," Snow said decisively. "Emma's never had a proper coming out in this realm."

"Um… a coming out?" Emma said. "I don't think…."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Not that kind of coming out. When a young girl of noble birth reaches maturity, a ball is held to present her to the kingdom and its subjects. You're the princess of The Enchanted Forest and you've never been properly presented as such."

Emma finished swallowing and slowly pushed away from her place at the table. "Look, Mary-Margaret… Mom…That's a really sweet thought, but I don't need to be presented to these people. I mean, I was their sheriff for three years. Everybody knows me already."

"They know you as the _sheriff_. But it's time to present you as what you are. A member of the royal family. The daughter of the King and Queen. A princess."

Emma tried very hard not to groan. She really did. But she was rapidly losing patience with Snow's attempts to craft her into her very own Royal Princess Barbie. Being some lovely, well-dressed figurehead just wasn't the way she saw her life panning out. Then again, she hadn't yet figured out what else she was supposed to do in this brave new world, so she kept stumbling along after her parents, hoping that eventually something here would begin to make sense.

"Mary-Margaret, don't you think it'll look a little ridiculous, having some debutante's coming out ball for a woman my age? I can't even dance!"

"I'll teach you," Charming piped up, an innocent, fatherly smile on his face. But it only reminded her of Hook dancing with her up on the parapets. That was the only kind of dancing she wanted to do and she suspected Captain Hook wouldn't be caught dead anywhere near a royal ball.

"It's really unnecessary, guys, and…."

"Emma, please." Snow's plea was soft and brought an immediate stop to Emma's protests. "I missed my chance to do everything for you. But this… it's the one thing I can still do. The one part of the life you should have had that I can still give you. Please let me do it for you."

Emma sighed, knowing she was beaten. "Okay. Just… I'm picking my own dress."

* * *

><p>Killian was loitering again. There wasn't much else to do to fill the days as he kicked around Snow and Charming's castle. He'd never considered himself as particularly industrious until all his regular activities were taken away. Somehow he'd gotten quite accustomed to a busy schedule of pillaging and looting, and later, defeating evil. Peace was trying. He was bored senseless.<p>

There was nothing to do but hang about and wait for moments alone with Emma. They were scarce, as she was nearly always with her parents or Henry, or some dwarves or fairies or bloody Baelfire.

Today he was making a slow circuit of the stableyard. Some days he circled the anything to see. Just a bunch of ordinary people going about their day, busily moving the kingdom forward. A kingdom with no place for an out-of work pirate.

It was in the stableyard that Smee found him. Smee had found his footing again. His sort generally did. He was working in the castle kitchen, but making a tidy profit under the table selling goods he stole from the royal larder.

"Ho there, Captain."

"It's just Hook these days, Smee. Not much of a captain without my ship."

"And see that's just what I was coming to tell you about."

"What's that?"

Smee leaned in closer. "A fisherman delivering to the kitchens claims he's seen the Killian went utterly still. He didn't think that name still had such power over him, but he was wrong. Three hundred years of living and breathing that ship meant she was in his blood. His heart began to beat faster just hearing her name uttered out loud.

"Where?"

Smee was a rat, even as a human. He might be lying. Or the fisherman was lying, or maybe mistaken. Or maybe his ship was still out there.

"He said he saw her docked at Miranta two weeks ago."

"That's only three days' ride from here."

His mouth began to water.

"I know it, Captain. When will you leave?"

"Leave?"

"To get her back. When are you going?"

Smee was so certain he would pack up and go. Was everyone certain? Was _he_ certain?

"I have…plans to make," he stalled.

"Since when has Captain Hook planned anything?"

"That's quite enough, Smee."

Smee stepped back, chastised. "But you will go, Captain? You'll reclaim her?"

"I'm not…"

He glanced up just then, and Emma's bright gold hair caught his eye, far up on the battlements.

"Not just yet."

"But Captain…"

"Smee, I have to go."

He began to make his way across the stableyard. Perhaps it was time to give his princess a bit of a nudge.

* * *

><p>"Emma!"<p>

She turned to see Neal striding down the battlement towards her.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Your mother said I'd find you here."

"Oh…"

Of course Snow would point him towards her. Neal held up a thick parchment envelope and grinned. "She gave me my invite."

"For what?"

"Your big party."

"Oh, God…." Emma rolled her eyes. "Can we not talk about that, please?"

"C'mon, she's _so_ excited. It's kind of cute."

"It's kind of _ridiculous_. I'm thirty and I'm having a coming out ball."

"Give her a break. She just wants to catch up on everything she missed. I get where she's coming from."

Emma sighed, knowing he was thinking of all his missed years with Henry. She had those same regrets, every day. "But you and I also know we can't turn back time."

He shrugged, tucking his invitation into his jacket and leaning on the wall next to her. "You can't go back. But you can decide how you're going to go forward, remember?"

Emma stared at her feet. Neal nudged her elbow with his.

"How are _you_ going to go forward, Emma?"

She laughed and dragged a hand through her hair. "I have no idea."

Neal smiled at her. "Try this on for size."

Then he leaned in and kissed her. She saw the intent in his eyes a moment before he did it. She could have stopped him. She didn't. Instead, she held still and let him, mostly because she just wanted to _know_. After all these years, all that had happened, with everything… good and bad… that lay between them, was this still there, too?

So she let him kiss her. And it was nice. Good, even. But her heart had moved on from him long ago. She knew it the minute his lips touched hers. For one thing, she was thinking it through very carefully. A good kiss, with the right person, didn't leave room for reasoned consideration. The last time she'd been kissed, in a dark corridor with a hook pressing her into the wall, she'd barely remembered to breathe.

He pulled back.

"It's not gonna happen for us, is it?"

Emma reached for his hand and squeezed. "It did happen for us, Neal. A long time ago. It was good while it lasted. And we got Henry out of it. But I think it needs to stay back there."

He smiled, only a little wistful, and not particularly devastated. "I had to try, you know?"

"I had to let you try."

"It's him, isn't it?"

"Who?"

"Killian."

She shook her head. "I don't know. Everything is different here. There's a lot to think about."

"If it's him, Em, you don't have to think at all. Just do it."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is. Isn't it?"

"Is it?"

Neal shrugged. "Only you can answer that."

"But my life is so much more complicated here. There's the kingdom and Mary Margaret and David and—"

Neal reached for her hand this time. "Em… you're still you. You gotta keep being you. Never mind all this." He waved his hand at the battlements around them. "Do what's right for you. The kingdom will sort itself out. The damn thing has lasted this long. I doubt you can do much damage."

"I'll think about it. So… what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your future looking like these days?"

Neal laughed. "You just shot me down. It's looking pretty lonely."

"I don't know about that. From what I've seen, it doesn't have to be."

"What are you talking about?"

"C'mon, Neal…. One of your houseguests seems to be nursing a pretty big crush on you. She's good at hiding behind that armor, but she can't hide everything."

His eyes went wide. "Are you talking about Mulan?"

"You really haven't seen it? God, guys are dense."

"Gimme a break. I've had a lot on my mind lately." He shifted his weight and looked at her closely. "You really think she's into me?"

"Yeah, I really think she is. But hey… she's been through the mill, so don't mess with her if you're not serious. I don't want to see her get hurt."

"Nah, I wouldn't do that to her. I just… Guess I have some thinking to do, huh?"

"Guess you do."

"We both do. You gonna go talk to Killian?"

"Geez, why is everybody so interested in my love life?"

"Because we all want to see you happy. And if he's the one who makes you happy—"

She held up a hand to shut him up. "Hush. Just let me get through this stupid ball and we'll see."

Neal pushed off the wall and tapped her chin with his knuckle. "Save me a dance, okay?"

With a last smile, he was gone.

Emma stayed up on the battlement, trying to sort out what she was feeling. It was hard. She'd spent her entire adult life repressing emotions. They just got in the way and hurt her. So now, when she really needed to decide what—who—she wanted, trying to tease apart the tangle of lust and like and maybe love that Killian sparked in her, all she made herself was confused.

Pressing her palms flat on the warm stone wall she leaned over as far as she could, looking out across the dense forests, the smattering of villages and the distant sea. Then she looked down into the stableyard. She caught a glimpse of black leather, the tail of Killian's frock coat, just as he strode through the stone archway leading out of the stableyard and away from the castle. He didn't look back.


	6. Chapter 6

Killian was tightening the straps affixing his bedroll to the back of the saddle when the second thoughts set in. Leaving had seemed the natural course of action when he'd first spotted Emma and Neal up on the ramparts. She'd made her choice, which should have made his—pursuing the Jolly Roger—simple. For a moment, it had. He'd packed his meager possessions, bartered for a horse and prepared to ride out of the palace without looking back.

But dammit, he was not a man to surrender the field, no matter how slim the odds. And this was no paltry plunder of gold to be defended. He'd never waged a more important fight in his long life. So why was he quitting now? Because despite what he saw, in his gut, he knew this wasn't finished. Emma wanted him, but could he convince her to choose him despite all the reasons she shouldn't?

His hand was still frozen on the straps in indecision when he heard someone enter the stable behind him.

"Going somewhere, Hook?"

He glanced over his shoulder at David. No doubt His Charmingness would be delighted to see the back of him so he decided to keep his decision, whatever it might be, to himself. "Your Majesty. My ship's been sighted."

"You're leaving _now_?" David sounded incredulous, which was a bit puzzling.

"I've no real reason to stay."

"I'm pretty sure you do."

He sighed and turned to face David. The man seemed to be here as a friend of sorts so he'd be as honest as he could be. "I've seen the way the wind is blowing, mate, and it seems a bit unfavorable to me."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"It seemed rather clear to me. No doubt the Queen will be glad to see the last of me. I'd have thought you would, too."

"I'll admit, you wouldn't be my first choice for Emma—"

Of course. He wasn't here to cheer him on, only to pat him consolingly on the shoulder. After all, he'd saved the man's life in Neverland and Charming was nothing if not loyal. "And Baelfire would," he spat. "I understand, Your Highness."

"I _said_ you wouldn't be my first choice for her, but I don't make Emma's choices and neither does her mother and neither does Neal. I thought you knew Emma well enough to know she'd never stand for it."

"Maybe he's her choice, too." It hurt in ways he could scarcely believe to say it out loud, but seeing them together on the battlements had hurt just as much.

"I think he isn't."

Killian looked at the ground and scratched the back of his ear. "If you don't like the idea of me with your daughter why are you here trying to make me stay when I'm ready to go?"

David chuckled. "Maybe because I've been on the losing side of a doomed romance before? Or maybe because I've seen the way she looks at you. She looks at you like I looked at Snow even when I knew I couldn't have her. Emma might not be able to see it yet, but I can. Neal might be the logical choice, he might make a lot of people happy, but he doesn't make _Emma_ happy."

That gave him pause. "And you think I would?"

"Come on, Hook. Where's that pirate swagger when you need it? Don't _you_ think you can make her happy?"

"Aye, I know I can. I'm not sure Emma does, though."

Don't you think you should stick around and try to show her?" David held out a thick, creamy white parchment envelope. "Here. You're formally invited to Emma's ball."

Killian slowly reached up to grasp it. "I doubt Snow White wishes me to be there."

"Snow likes you just fine. She'll like you even better when you make Emma happy. And I know Emma wants you there. Are you brave enough to come?"

Killian chuckled and cocked an eyebrow. "Now you know I can never resist a challenge like that."

"That's what I'm counting on. I'll see you at the ball."

"Yes, you bloody well will," he muttered to himself as David strode away.


	7. Chapter 7

Snow had spared no expense. Killian eyed the jewel-colored swaths of silk draping the ceiling and cascading down the walls, the polished black and white marble floor and the crystal-encrusted wall sconces as he wove through the well-dressed crowd. All around him, high ranking guests in their best court finery laughed and chatted. The air was abuzz with high spirits and anticipation. Killian had considered acquiring clothing more appropriate for the occasion, but had quickly dismissed the idea. He was here to ask her to choose him… just as he was. So he'd present himself to her just as he was, black pirate leathers and flashing, deadly hook. It wasn't like any of it would be a surprise to Emma at this point. She knew him. It only remained to be seen if he was what she wanted.

Snow might be off the mark in her attempts to fashion Emma into a perfect storybook princess, Killian thought as he examined the room full of guests, but her instincts regarding this ball were spot on. Emma didn't need this, but the kingdom did. It was a statement that they would survive and thrive, despite everything they'd gone through. This ball practically reeked of Snow's indefatigable plucky spirit.

He was slipping around another group of guests when a man just to his right laughed at something his companion said and stepped back, colliding with Killian's shoulder.

"Apologies, mate."

"Killian?"

Killian turned to look at the man now facing him. "Baelfire?" And then he registered Baelfire's companion, the one who'd made him laugh. "Mulan?"

For a split second, she almost blushed, but then her chin came up and those dark eyes, always so curiously tender and at odds with her stoic manner, met his in challenge. She was wearing a dress, something that had Aurora all over it and didn't suit her at all. But maybe that was only because he'd always seen her kitted out in armor. In truth, the lass looked very pretty. And her hand was resting in the crook of Baelfire's elbow with a strange sort of familiarity.

Killian's eyes flicked between them. "Where is Emma?"

Baelfire shrugged. "Haven't seen her yet tonight. I'm sure Snow is running her ragged with primping."

"What…" Killian halted, knowing that what he was about to ask was rude but he couldn't contain his curiosity and besides, the answer was bloody important. He attempted to frame his question with a compliment. "Mulan, you look lovely. Are you here tonight as Baelfire's guest?"

Now she blushed in earnest and her warrior's swagger vanished as she ducked her head and looked at the floor.

"Yeah, she's my date," Baelfire said, smiling at Mulan in a way that spoke volumes.

"But what about…"

"No, Killian." Baelfire cut him off. "That's ancient history."

They eyed each other warily, a healthy dose of suspicion still laying between them even though Baelfire seemed to be surrendering the field.

Bae turned to Mulan. "Gimme a sec, okay?"

"What's a sec?"

Bae seemed to find Mulan's confusion charming. "I just need to talk to Hook here for a minute."

"Oh!" she said, smiling. Killian had never seen the girl smile. It was quite a transformation. "I'll go find Aurora, then. She wanted me to come find her when we arrived."

"'Kay. I'll catch up."

Mulan slipped away into the crowd and Baelfire watched her go with a smile. "There's something kinda hot about a girl who can kill you with a flick of her wrist, huh?"

"Indeed," Killian drawled. "I've known my fair share. It's like that, then?"

Bae shook his head and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Not yet, but maybe? I like her. Emma says she likes me. God, this feels like fucking high school."

"You said _Emma_ suggested this?"

"Yeah." Bae's expression sobered and he looked Killian dead in the eye. "I won't lie. I gave it a go. And yeah, some part of me might always love her. We have a kid together, you know? But us? Her and me? It's done."

"I see."

"I finally figured out that I was never gonna get somewhere with a girl who's already in love with someone else." Bae gave him a pointed look.

"You seem rather certain of that. It's been a bit more unclear on my end."

Bae chuckled. "I think the only person who's not certain at this point is Emma. So how about you go convince her?"

"That's precisely why I'm here."

"So get to it, Hook. Just…" He reached out and grabbed Killian's arm to stop him.

"What?"

"Be good to her."

Killian smirked, feeling hopeful for the first time in a very long time. "I intend to, mate."

* * *

><p>"Here, wait…" Snow reached up to adjust Emma's tiara for the twentieth time since they'd left her room.<p>

"Mary Margaret, I'm sure it's fine. There are like a million hairpins in there holding it on my head."

"Just checking. There's nothing worse than losing your tiara at a public gathering. Trust me, I've been there."

"Yep, sounds like the absolute end of the world."

Snow smiled indulgently. "Here, let's just fix—"

"Mary Margaret, stop."

"It's just this one little tendril of hair, Emma."

Emma waved her hands, gently batting Snow away. "No, Mom, stop."

Snow stared at her with wide eyes.

"I'm never going to be the Queen."

"What?"

"I'm terrible at it. We both know it. I'd be the worst possible choice to rule the kingdom."

"Emma… what's all this about?"

"This!" She waved her hands, indicating her white jeweled dress, her fussy hairstyle, the freaking tiara, the ball happening ahead of them through the arched doorway. "All this princess stuff. I'm no good at it."

"Give it a little time. You're just new to it."

Emma smiled at Snow, at her relentless, unflagging optimism and spirit. "Time isn't going to make me into a new person. Look, it doesn't even matter. One of the perks of being locked in a curse for twenty seven years is that I probably won't outlive you. I'll never _need_ to be the Queen. It's Henry you should be focusing on, and hey… he seems to be a natural at this."

Emma pointed through the archway at the dancing couples. Across the floor, Henry was escorting Regina in a slow, stately turn, one hand raised to clasp hers, the other hand resting behind his back. His face was serious and focused as he perfectly executed every step with his mother, even when he had to duck out of the way to keep one of her pointy bejewel epaulettes from poking him in the eye (Where _did_ she get these outfits?). Henry was even wearing a short cape, a small dress sword and a thin gold circlet on his head. He practically screamed princeling.

"But this is your birthright, Emma."

"No." Emma reached up and laid her hand against Snow's cheek. "Having both my parents back, having my son, being a real family, that's my birthright, and I've _got_ it. And even if I take a pass on the crown, I'll still be around. I'll be like the Enchanted Forest's very own Billy Carter. Maybe I'll even open a brewery for fun. That's more my speed than all this."

"Who's Billy Carter?"

Emma sometimes forgot that the curse left huge gaps in Mary Margaret's knowledge of popular culture. "It doesn't matter. Look, let's enjoy the party and leave off the whole 'presenting the princess' business. Present Henry instead. He'll eat it up and you'll make Regina explode with pride."

"If you're sure…"

"You can't turn back time, Mom. We can only go forward, right? And this is how I want to go forward."

Snow finally smiled, one of those putting-on-a-brave face smiles she did with the watery eyes and trembling lip, but Emma sensed that underneath her disappointment, she really did get it. She just needed time to mourn the loss of the life she'd imagined for her daughter that would never come to pass.

It wasn't as though Emma didn't sympathize. She had a lifetime of regrets when it came to Henry. But she was done looking back. Circumstances, magic, fate… they'd all conspired to land them here. Time to quit trying to fight it and embrace it. And right now, there was something else—_someone else_—she wanted to try embracing, but she very much doubted he'd show his face at a royal ball. That would have to wait until tomorrow.

* * *

><p>There was another very good reason for abdicating her crown: the men. From the moment she'd stepped foot in the ballroom, they'd started coming at her. Unwed noblemen from all over the realm, coming to pay court to the fair and very eligible Princess of The Enchanted Forest. Tall ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones, sweaty ones… one after another they approached and spouted long-winded, ridiculous paeans to her beauty and grace before asking for a dance. She'd flatly refused every offer except two. One dance went to Charming, who had to practically drag her through the steps to get her through it unscathed. The other was with Henry, who wisely picked a really easy one and whispered the steps to her under his breath as they went. That one was actually kind of fun.<p>

Neal never approached and when she finally picked him out in the crowd, she could see why. He was leaning in close to Mulan to hear something she was saying and the look on his face said it all. Well done, Neal. She smiled contentedly. There was one happy ending managed.

Another Sir Fancy Clothes caught her eye as she was watching Neal and he smiled at her with a determined glint in his eye. Tall and gangly with slicked back hair, he looked like Ichabod Crane in pink satin. Hey, this was The Enchanted Forest. Maybe he _was_ Ichabod Crane. He began to weave through the crowd to get to her, so she spun around and threw herself into Snow and Charming's conversation. Please God, no more Prancing Princes tonight.

She thought maybe she'd escaped when simultaneously Snow's eyes widened, Charming smirked and someone behind her cleared his throat. She closed her eyes and stifled a groan. Might as well get it over fast. She turned and found Killian standing before her, looking like some kind of swashbuckling nightmare, decked out in all his black leather, glinting silver and eyeliner in the midst of this room full of brightly-colored satins and brocades. He looked like a cool drink of water in the middle of an endless desert and she suddenly, desperately, wanted a drink.

Almost like he could read her mind, he smirked, that maddening, sexy-as-hell smirk that made her want to smack him and fuck him simultaneously.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in disbelief, only realizing after it was out that it sounded kind of insulting, like he had no right. In truth, she was so relieved to see him that she wanted to cheer.

"I was invited." His eyes flicked to Charming briefly and then back to her. She'd have to thank David for that later. Much later. Tonight she had plans for this pirate.

Killian extended his left arm, his hook glinting dangerously. "I've come to ask for a dance with the princess."

She stared down at his hook. It was a challenge. If he was interested in playing by the rules, he'd have kept it behind his back and offered his right hand. She was so glad he hadn't, because she wanted the hook.

"You can't dance with the Princess," she said. For an instant, doubt flickered in his eyes. Then she arched her eyebrow at him, her own challenge, and he grinned again. "But you can dance with Emma," she finished, finally smiling back. She reached out for his hook, curling her fingers around the cool steel, and let him lead her onto the floor.

His arm came around her, pulling her in close, much closer than all the other courtly couples around them.

"Remember, I can't do this."

"And you remember, it's all in finding the right partner. Just watch me. I won't let you fall."

But she was. Falling hopelessly for him, in so deep that she might never see the light of day again. And if this is what True Love felt like, she didn't want to. She'd stay lost in this sea forever.

He spoke, shocking her out of her cataloguing all the shades of blue in his eyes.

"I came to tell you that I'm leaving."

"What?"

"Leaving. The Jolly Roger's been spotted. I mean to track her down and get her back."

_Fucking pirate._ She'd forgotten for a moment.

Emma stiffened and stepped back, pulling free of his embrace. "Thanks for coming to let me know, but it wasn't necessary. I knew you'd leave sooner or later."

He opened his mouth to say something but she wasn't interested in hearing it. How stupid did she have to be to fall for a guy like this, after everything she'd been through and everything she knew about him? No guy was truly trustworthy, but she hadn't picked just _any_ guy. She'd fallen for a fucking pirate. Fucking _Captain Hook_! Good one, Emma. Still batting a thousand in your love life.

She turned on her heel and pushed through the dancing couples. Once free of the dance floor, she sprinted out of the ball altogether, down the hall towards her own rooms, as fast as she could go, which wasn't very fast considering her outfit.

It was the ridiculous dainty satin slippers with the wobbly heels that let Killian catch up to her before she'd made it even twenty feet. His hand closed around her arm and he swung her around.

"Emma, wait."

"What for? You said what you came to say so don't let me keep you."

"You _have_ been keeping me, you bloody maddening woman. Why do you think I've been here all this time? I've been here for _you_. I'm _still_ here for you."

"Until you leave."

He still held her arm and now he pulled her closer, until she could feel his words brush across her lips. "Until you come with me."

"_What?"_She tugged her arm free and Killian released her, but only long enough to snake his arm around her waist.

"I want you to come with me, Emma."

"Go with you where?" She pushed on his chest but he wasn't budging.

"I told you… to find the Jolly Roger."

"I can't do that," she replied automatically, because it was a preposterous suggestion. Wasn't it?

"Why not?" One eyebrow cocked up in challenge.

"Because…"

"Because you're their princess?"

She wasn't anybody's princess. Hadn't she just declared that tonight?

"Because you need to stay and help the Queen negotiate trade deals or figure out seating charts for state dinners? Who cares about that?" His voice dropped into a low, sexy purr that she could feel in her own chest. "Come with me and find my ship. Come be my pirate queen. Come with me and have a bloody great adventure, Emma."

She could feel the heat of his hand on her back, even through the layers of her dress. At some point she'd stopped shoving at him trying to break free and had started clutching at him to hold on. He angled his face and tipped his chin up, bringing his lips within an inch of hers.

"Emma…" he whispered. His breath swept between her parted lips. She felt him on her tongue. "Come with me."

She swallowed and pressed her thighs together. How the hell did he do that, turn her to a puddle of lust with a few words and a look? He wanted her to run away with him, off on some quest to find his ship. She couldn't deny the appeal of it. She sighed, feeling her resolve starting to crumble and not feeling particularly inclined to shore it back up. She _wanted_ him to convince her, sweep her off her feet, steal her heart away.

"But…"

"But what, darling?" He leaned back and smirked because he knew he had her considering it, which was just a short, easy step to "yes".

"Do you even know where it is?"

"Vaguely."

"Will it be dangerous?"

"Definitely."

"Will it be illegal?"

"Probably. Wait… your illegal or my illegal? Scratch that. The answer is yes either way."

This was madness. Stupid, insane, appealing, oh-God-she-wanted-to madness. She wanted to kiss him, and spend a week in bed with him, and run away with him and do stupid, daring, dangerous things with him. But he was a pirate and always would be and worse, he was a _man_… and they always disappointed her.

"Killian—"

He didn't let her finish. "Look, Emma." His voice grew serious, and his face was intent. "I know I don't fit here. I fit in here better than in Storybrooke, but I still don't fit with you. I know it. I'm never going to be the bloke to sit in on council meetings and negotiate peace agreements over dinner. So maybe that means I'm all wrong for you. The royal guards might always arrest me every time I come near you because I'm a pirate. But I don't bloody care. I can't be all those things, that man you should be with, but I can be this…"

He released her and laid his palm flat on her chest, right over her heart. She held her breath, unable to feel anything but his warm hand over her heartbeat and unable to see anything but his blue eyes, pleading with her to choose him. Unconsciously, she laid her hand over his.

"I happen to think this is more important," he said, turning his hand, taking hers, and pressing it to his own chest, just over his heart. "It's the only important thing."

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

"That I love you? Come now, Emma. You know that already. D'you think I'd have done what I have, followed you from realm to realm, risked my life a dozen different ways, if I didn't? I love you and I want you to come with me."

"And if I wanted to stay?" She didn't want to stay, not at all, but it was very important to know his answer just the same.

He sighed. "Then I'd stay, of course. My place is wherever you are."

"And your ship?"

He smirked. "What ship?"

"Shut up, Killian. I know you want it back."

"Aye, I do. But it's nothing to wanting you. There's no contest, love."

"Wow, you really know how to woo a girl."

"I'm not out to impress a lass with a lot of words and grand gestures. I'm out to claim your heart, Emma. It's as simple as that."

"Killian…." There was really no way to resist him. She didn't even want to. "But…. what about Henry? I can't just leave him."

Killian rolled his eyes. "We won't be gone forever. We'll go find the Jolly Roger and bring her back here. No matter where we go, I promise you, we'll always come back here. I know how much it means to you. And maybe we'll even take Henry with us next time. You know he'd enjoy it."

Emma snorted. "Enjoy" was far too mild a word for how Henry would feel about sailing off on a pirate ship. But how did _she_ feel about it?

"You know where you belong, Emma," he said, once again knowing just what she was thinking. "And it's not here learning the bloody gavotte. Which I can teach you, by the way, if you really want to know, as I'm a man of many talents. But I think you don't care about bloody dance steps or treaties or crowns. Because I think you know you don't belong in this palace any more than I do. You belong out there. With me."

"On your ship."

He grinned, that rakish smile that made her toes curl. "Aye, and wherever else adventure takes us. What do you say, Swan?" He reached up and traced her jaw with the blunt curve of his hook. "Come and be my love."

She felt like there was still more to discuss, some other protest she should make or something important they should sort out, but Killian decided that he'd done enough with words so now he kissed her. And the kiss obliterated every lingering argument she could have come up with, because there was no denying this, the way he made her feel when he touched her.

It was the opposite in every way to Neal's kiss. She didn't think it through or debate the rightness or wrongness of it. She couldn't. Killian _overwhelmed_ her. He obliterated every thought and reservation. When he kissed her, the world shrank down to just him, just her, just this kiss, and her heart expanded in a way she never believed possible.

His arms came around her and he deepened it, the kiss turning hungry and desperate as Emma kissed him back. He stumbled forward and she fell back until they met the stone wall. When he released her mouth and trailed down her neck with a series of kisses and gentle bites, she finally organized her thoughts enough to say something.

"How far is it?"

"How far is what, love?" he rasped against her throat.

"Your ship."

"Oh… ah… three days' ride, perhaps."

"Roughing it the whole way, I suppose?"

"Very rough." His tongue dipped into the hollow behind her collarbone and she sucked in a breath.

"Then there's something I think we should do before we go."

He finally raised his head. "What's that, darling?" God, how could he make such an old-fashioned, corny endearment like "darling" sound so hot? It made her knees buckle when he called her that.

Gripping his lapels, she pulled him in close, until her lips were brushing his as she spoke. "Come to my room and I'll show you."

"Your room? In the middle of your own coming out ball? I'm shocked, Princess."

She pushed off the wall and grabbed his hook, backing down the hall and pulling him after her. "I thought we just established that I'm nobody's princess."

"Aye, that's true."

"And this pirate queen thinks we should take advantage of the bed while we have one."

Killian smirked and his eyes sparkled. Her heart flipped over. She hoped he always made her feel this reckless and wild. "Your pirate king agrees, milady. Do you mean to ravish me?"

She grinned back. "Only if you promise the ravishing goes both ways."

"I promise," he said, a note of emotion piercing their lighthearted banter. "For all my days, however many they number, I promise."

It seemed fantastic and unbelievable, that this was where her story would lead. An orphaned lost girl in the cold, real world, now a renegade princess, a pirate's queen, in a fairytale land of magic. But when she looked at Killian, looking at her as if he'd be happy to let her be the only sight he gazed on for the rest of his days, she knew she'd just stepped foot on the path she'd been meant for from the moment of her fantastical birth. And she couldn't wait to see where the road led them.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading!<strong>


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